Friday, September 12, 2025 |
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It's about time for a drink, isn't it? I think we've all earned it. If you're in the mood for a beer, we talked to experts about the best, most refreshing brews from Japan. Cheers, and enjoy your weekend. – Michael Sebastian, editor-in-chief
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Don't stop at rice lagers like Sapporo. Pour one of our favorite Japanese brews into your pint glass and thank us later. |
Walk into an izakaya in Tokyo or New York and order a tall glass of beer. You'll usually get one of the crisp, crushable lagers that define Japanese brews for most imbibers. These rice-brewed beverages are massively refreshing, a perfect toriaezu beer, or "beer for now," as you check the food menu and unwind. While delicious, rice lagers only scratch the surface of the Japanese beer scene. Before 1994, the Japanese government had a law that restricted brewing licenses to giant producers. After it was revised, the door opened for small-scale operations. Soon, new breweries began to experiment with German, Belgian, and American styles through a distinctly Japanese lens. The result is a beer scene that extends far beyond the tall silver cans you see on sushi counters. Japan now offers some of the most distinctive beers in the world. Here's where to start your journey. |
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"I'm going to end my life by the end of the year," he said over a call one morning, as casually as if discussing weekend plans. I was sitting on my sofa, the same place I'd been while we shared countless conversations about faith, doubt, and the meaning of it all. But this wasn't philosophy. It was a declaration. The autumn light suddenly felt colder, as if the season itself had paused to listen. I waited for the qualifier—the "just kidding." Instead he added, "Please don't try to convince me otherwise. Everyone else is. I just need one person who can be with me, without trying to fix me. Someone who can witness this. If you can't, I understand. But I won't take this trip with anyone who won't honor it." That was the moment our friendship became something entirely different. No longer a casual back-and-forth about life's abstractions but a slow walk to the edge—together. |
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Experimentation is par for the course with Yves Jarvis. He plays all the instruments on his recordings and takes inspiration from funk, folk, and psych alike. So it's no surprise that the Calgary-based musician—born Jean-Sébastien Yves Audet—tried a host of different things with his latest album, All Cylinders, which released earlier this year. But despite the disparate elements, it feels entirely his own, suffused with his established language and phrasing. An appreciation of music was entwined with Jarvis's adolescence. Though his parents never played any instruments, they were music obsessed, taking him to concerts since he was three months old. And while Jarvis claims he isn't technically inclined—there are some riffs on this album that beg to differ—it was his parents who put him in jazz, classical, and theory courses at the National Conservatory of Music. "My theory background comes from piano, but my instrumental breakthrough was blues guitar," he says. His parents would let him busk around cities while on vacation. "They're stage parents but in the healthiest way." |
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